Goodnight Becky: A Short Story

Actions we have taken in the past have a horrible habit of sneaking back into our present

James flicked through the application before him. Fourth and final interview of the afternoon. He hoped this one was more promising than the rest. So far the candidates had been decidedly poor. Hmm, what he was reading was not instilling much confidence in him. How had this guy, what was the name... Alan Ferris. How had he gotten through the screening process with this rubbish?

He threw the application dispiritedly on the desk before him and pinged his assistant to bring the candidate through.

Moments later the door to his office opened. In breezed a tall, blonde haired man with an ill-fitting blue suit and a brown leather briefcase.

'Alan Ferris, pleased to meet you. Please, take a seat.'

Alan sat in the proffered chair with across from James. Some moments passed in silence as they appraised one another. James shifted slightly under the intense gaze of his interviewee. Right he thought. Let's get on with this.

'So Alan,' he smiled to ease the tension. 'Let me start by thanking you for attending. I will give you a short overview of the department and then some standard questions. It shouldn't take longer than forty minutes.'

He smiled again, Damn, the atmosphere was tense in here. Why the hell was he trying to appease this guy?

Alan cleared his throat and spoke in a surprisingly deep voice from such a slight figure.

'Are you going to thank me then?'
'Sorry?' James smiled again. Shit, what the hell. He was going to get face cramp soon. He would have to fucking stop with the smiling. 'Sorry. Thank you?'

'Yes, you said you would start by thanking me but I don't think that in itself was the thank you. Was it?'
'Ah, a turn of phrase. Yes, well. Yes. Ok then. Thank you for coming. So, the position we are offering.'
'I mean,' Alan interrupted. 'When people say they will thank you but don't actually thank you until prompted it's rather rude don't you think?'

James stared across the desk perplexed. What was wrong with this guy? His eyes flicked to the corners of the room in a momentary panic that perhaps he was being filmed. Was this some kind of setup? He thought back to his training that at the time he presumed was nonsense and he would never use.

'Okay Alan, let's carry on with the interview shall we?' He fixed Alan with a steadfast look. A look which said he would brook no nonsense and it was time to get serious.
'Are you asking me or telling me?'
'Right, that's it.' James furiously pointed a finger directly at Alan's face. 'Get out. I've had enough of this, this farce. I do not think you would be suitable for this position.'

James positively quivered with rage. Almost self-consciously he noticed he was standing and still pointing He lowered his finger and sat letting out a pent up breath. Alan sat staring at him stonily.

'How is the mortgage broking business these days?'
'What? Get out! I have already told you. This interview is over.'
'I'm afraid James that it is not over. Not until I say so. You see, it took me a while to track you down. The policy maker. The man who pushed the policies to all the little franchised mortgage brokers. The same mortgage brokers I and my wife went to. We weren't very well off. In fact, we were stupidly poor. Would never have been able to keep up with the payments. At first, I thought that it was my fault. Our fault. Becky couldn't stand losing her home. We hadn't been there long but oh how she loved having her own place. It wasn't to be. We couldn't afford the payments. Then the foreclosure came and then...' Alan's voice cracked slightly. 'Well, then Becky decided it was too much. Took all of her meds at once. Goodnight Becky. Those were the last words I got to say to her. '

Alan's calm had been replaced by a frighteningly controlled hostility as he stood and slid a long hunting knife from his briefcase. Wickedly serrated on one side and glitteringly sharp on the other. James's eyes bulged in horror and he scrabbled back in his chair. 'Wait, what... No, I don't u...'

James closed the door behind him and nodded affably at Alan's assistant who was guiltily putting his mobile down. He leant conspiratorially toward him as he passed.

'I don't think the job would suit me after all.'